


forgotten

by binya



Category: Original Work
Genre: Anxiety Attacks, Childhood Trauma, Derealization, Dissociation, Emetophobia, Gen, Hallucinations, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, dereality
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-15
Updated: 2021-01-15
Packaged: 2021-03-12 22:14:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28767651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/binya/pseuds/binya
Summary: Everything around me turns into the broken shambles of what the room was like when I first moved into it. Broken and lonely. This isn't a place I should be, it's dangerous. It was unused for a reason."A powerful, dark internal narrative. Written confidently to convey the conflicted, turbulent mind of the narrator with some style." - review from my english teacher when i was like 14 lol





	forgotten

**Author's Note:**

> PLEASE READ THE TAGS !!!  
> this is my first work, so please be lenient. i wrote this piece for an english exam a few years ago (got an A lets go babyyy) and it's literally just a huge episode i had in 2016 that led to a suicide attempt. disclaimer, that was 2016, this is 2021 and i'm a lot better and i've moved on. please stay safe, read the tags, and if i've missed any triggers please let me know (can i edit this after i post it? i hope so. updating tags is something i might wanna do.)

When midnight strikes, my house splits into two realms. A silent, orderly realm, and a realm too loud and distorted. The rest of my family belong to the silent realm, being able to sleep in peace, no disturbances to make them fearful of the night. I belong to the other realm, being forced by the world to pay for the "sin" that is merely my existance. When midnight strikes, this realm forms into my own personal hell.

When it starts, I feel like I'm in some sort of delirium. I feel drunk, but I haven't touched any alcohol since last time's incident. It feels like a nightmare, but I don't remember ever falling asleep. Then again, I don't remember ever being awake, either. Everything seems confusing and I begin to forget if I'm still alive, if I'm still breathing. It feels like an out of body experience, but I still feel attached to myself. Too attached. It feels like I'm chained to my own body, the weight pulling me down, pulling me away from escape. I'm stuck here whether I want to be or not, and at this point I just want to run away.

Then, I start to feel the pain. My throat feels tight and I can't breathe, almost as if I'm being choked by something with inhuman strength, and my heart is beating too fast to be normal. It's like someone has given me some kind of poison, the phantom pain coming to me in intense waves that get worse with each breath. I keep fading away from myself, getting disconnected from my own body; dissociation plaguing my mind. I start to feel like this darkened room just might be the last thing I see. The blue walls weep, their tears creating soaked marks. I can't hear them, but I'm watching them cry, the tears trickling down to the floor. The moulded ceiling is warping, making faces at me. It's making expressions I can't read, can't understand, at least not in this state of mind. It's taunting me, mocking me. The floor is collapsing under my feet. It creaks and cracks until it finally breaks away into a black abyss, nothing below. Just lost space. The door disappears whenever I look directly at it, but it comes back in my peripheral vision. That's okay, I don't have enough energy to leave at this point anyway.

Everything around me turns ino the broken shambles of what the room was like when I first moved into it. Broken and lonely. This isn't a place I should be, it's dangerous. It was unused for a reason.

Boxes full of childhood memories and forgotten scraps of paper tower over me and threaten to crush me with their weight. From old video game cheat codes that my mother printed when I was younger, to photos of a wedding my aunt had that everyone tries to forget. It doesn't matter if the boxes fall and crush me, I've carried their weight for years. I don't have the strength to even move my body anymore, all I feel is apathy. The only light source I have are old birthday candles I found in one of the boxes. Lighting them brings back a familiar smell, but it leaves a sour memory on my tongue. A memory of a time when things weren't so complicated, so difficult.

Everything is black and white except for the strong red flowing steadily from my arm. I can't remember how I managed to hurt myself. It looks like I've scratched my arm vigorously with my short nails, making myself bleed. But it doesn't hurt, I can't feel it. The only feeling I have right now is how heavy my lungs are and how light my head feels. It feels like something is crushing my ribs, enveloping me in a sinister hug that is nowhere near comforting, and I can't pull away no matter how hard I try. My head starts to feel so weightless that I think I might've dropped it somewhere and forgotten about it.

All I can hear is a loop of a song of bad memories, no coherent words, only an unsettling and nauseous feeling. A melody of nightmares, different each time I hear it. The most memorable parts of this song being the tunes my oldest brother used to play to me on his guitar, until he stopped visiting and stopped playing it. Then there's the songs that I've played to comfort myself when I feel miserable, now torturing me in times like this - even just the melody makes me want to throw up. The startup sound of an old gaming console my mother gave to my brothers and I on Christmas fill my ears, so loud that I need to cover them with my hands, but that doesn't change the volume whatsoever - if anything, it gets louder to spite me. If I pay too much attention to the discombobulated noise I feel like I'll pass out or maybe just drop dead. The sound travels around the room, sometimes coming from what remains of the floor, then the warped ceilings, then it's every corner of the room at once. Despite it's many locations, it always sounds like it's coming from my first phone's speakers, crackly but obnoxiously loud, despite having thrown that old machine out years ago.

I start to feel my weakest, collapsing on what little floor space there is amongst the old boxes and bags of old toys. I don't notice the thump of my head on the ground, nor how much my entire body starts to ache. I'm made of glass, shattering across the floor, shards of myself scattered everywhere. There's no way out of here, no escape. I'll just be forgotten and discarded like everything around me. Shutting my eyes, that's all I can think of.

I'll just be forgotten and discarded like everything around me.


End file.
